Heresy of the Highest Magnitude
by Writter of Stories
Summary: A first contact story done without butchering the Warhammer 40k lore and does not result in the exterminatus of all the Mass Effect universe. A small newly commissioned Wrath Class Cruiser is sent to investigate a small artifact activated from a small Waaagh. Whereas everyone else sees heresy that should be purged, Quintilius sees potential. M for 40k. Will be graphic. OC galore.
1. Prologue

AN: So, this is my first story and first chapter ever on fanfiction Actually its not a chapter, it's a prologue of what is to come. Depending on the reception to this, I will continue to update. So I have been reading this story, The Imperium of Mankind's Rise, and I was like wow, this thing has no accuracy at all to 40k. 2000 imperial guardsmen sent to negotiate with the Quarians? If the the whole Imperium knows about them, its millions of guardsmen would flood that universe and exterminatus everything. The wars fought in 40k are grueling campaigns of years where thousands of guardsmen are sacrificed for a few more feet of ground. I also am sort of increasing the number of planets the Imperium has. It never made any sense in the lore that the Imperium had a measly million planets when they covered most of the galaxy. I am increasing the number of inhabited planets to exactly 150 million. Bite me.

You can expect chapters from here on out to be between 5k and 15k words.

So, I have an idea of a universe where dialogue between species still happens, no exterminatus, and even cooperation. But how is this possible, you might ask? Because the Ordo Xenos likes its secrets locked far away in the Vaults of Terra. Enjoy.

XXXX

A small shuffling and scattering of feet. Two sets of feet. One erratic and one robotic.

Both of them stop at the shelves and the robotic one pulls out a small cognitor.

"This is it Magos?" Asked the organic one.

"Yes," replied the now identified techpriest. "All you need to know is in there."

"Let us see what is in it." Said the mysterious man. The large man, now stepping into the shadow from the darkness. One could see his outline and a faint shimmering surrounding him. He was a huge man, taller than any Space Marine. He thumbed the play button and an inquisitor was now visible before him. As if it knew who he was, the hologram started playing.

"Fires rained from the heavens that day the greenskins came. Cadminus IV, a small agri world, shivered in fear as orks by the millions swarmed their world. Why had this happened? Had the Emperor cursed them for heresy among the ranks? Was this truly his will? But alas, for the small minds of the Imperial masses, the idea that an ork warlord did this without any interference from the Emperor at all was beyond them. But not to I, Inquisitor Quintilius. I know that the Emperor helps those who help themselves.

This small Waaaagh of just 2 million orks lead by a warlord dumb as a sack of rocks would have been completely overlooked where it not for the fact that the small planet had been hiding an unknown xenos secret. The 'Tuning Fork,' my retinue of misfits and seasoned stormtroopers took to calling it. It was well hidden in the ancient moon orbiting Cadminus V. As the Orks arrived en mass, their psychic Waaagh seemed to activate the object in the system.

That was the reason that a newly made Wrath class cruiser was in the system with two comparatively small cobra class escorts. The small shadows of the 1.2 Km cobras were overwhelmed by the massive 6.7 Km chassis of the Wrath class cruiser, named "Specter of Death."

Ironic, that the citizens of this world held the emperor's praise on their lips for being saved from the irate nature of the orks, when I was never even interested in the backwater world of Cadminus IV. Only the moon of Cadminus V held any worth at all.

The ork horde broke like a wave unto the beach when the reinforcements arrived. The small garrison of 600,000 PDF could barely hold the orks back for even 5 weeks. When my order of business here is concluded, I should make a note to have the governor's competency evaluated, and maybe have him executed on charges of heresy should I find him lacking.

The Emperor has tasked me with finding out what this device is, so that I may turn its purpose to the Holy Imperium's blessed crusades. May none find us wanting."

–End log. Date M41.999


	2. Unto the Breach

AN: Ok, wow. Really popular reception for just 716 words worth of prologue.

So I would like to address a couple of questions that people asked me over PM. First of all, no I cannot reveal who the mysterious man is at the beginning. I like to call it a 'Plot Twist' and 'foreshadowing.' Cookie to whoever can figure out who he is ahead of time though. Pay attention to his mannerisms and how it might seem out of place in 40k.

Second, this will have some perspective from the ME: races, don't worry.

Third, the mass effect universe is not in the same universe as 40k. If it was, logic would dictate that the council would have at least run into the orks by now. But I want my council to be an innocent virgin to be sacrificed in the fires of war.

Fourth, as for ships and their respective size, I am going to roll with the black library ship sizes. Each sector has an average battle fleet of only 75 ships. That's really small considering they are patrolling an area 20 light years in diameter. Therefore each ship is going to be really powerful and overkill, 40k style.

Finally, people tend to forget that the Imperium's masses have no idea of chaos or even the most terrifying aliens. They know that the Imperium watches for heresy, but most presume that that simply means deviating from the Emperor's word, which, while true, is only a part of the reason.

Without further ado, chapter 1.

XXXX

"What do you think of this device, Magos Kathian?" the inquisitor asked.

"I know that my brethren would think it a disease from the bowels of Nurgle, to be purged in order to alleviate the Omnisiah," Responded Kathian with a steady and unsettlingly mechanical voice.

They stood on the bridge of the 'Specter of Death,' surrounded by many armsmen and the blinking lights of powerful cognitors. Quintilius, the man in charge of this ship from the Ordo Xenos, was wearing large power armor and towered over everyone else in the bridge. Normally, a discovery like this would have yielded far more than a cruiser and two mediocre escorts. But with the Black Crusades lead by the filthiest of traitors, the Necrons waking from their eternal slumber, and the deadly Hive Fleet Leviathan making its way towards Holy Terra itself, such a deployment would have been a gross misallocation of valuable resources.

He didn't even have the proper mindwipe procedures or virus bombs to make the population forget about the artifact. Or 'forget,' depending on how it was handled.

"I didn't ask how your colleagues thought of this artifact, my dearest friend. I asked what you thought." Said the inquisitor. He was never the type of man who worried what others thought of him.

Kathian replied back with a small hint of curiosity leaking its way into the unpleasant voice. "I might think that the machine spirits within this device are begging to be let out of their cage and turned to serve us. But such thoughts are those of the damned."

"You wouldn't even share such thoughts with one of the damned?" replied the inquisitor with mirth in his voice.

"I might, should I personally happen to know anyone like that." Said the Magos, curiosity still evident.

"You know, as well as I do, that the close minded fools who preside over us would turn away such an advantage on grounds of 'heresy.' But truly, is it heresy to take all steps needed to make sure mankind survives in this day and age?" Kathian looked around with caution. None of the crew on the bridge even seemed to react to such vile things spewed forth from the inquisitor's mouth. He was still not used to the openness of ideas on this particular vessel.

"You may count on me inquisitor. I will make the machine spirits in this device sing the Omnisiah's praises. I shall go occupy myself with deciphering His mysteries. If you would excuse me." The Magos walked away from the inquisitor. If one were to look closely enough, he would see the odd swagger in his step. Confidence. Odd, such emotion is rarely displayed by those who have become one with the machine, thought Quintilius. He was an interesting one. Ever since he met the outcast magos on Litmus III while fighting a genestealer cult, he knew he would make a fine addition to his retinue. Many disagreed with his interpretation of the Emperor's word. The Emperor merely said that mankind should be dominant over the galaxy, not to wipe out every xenos race and fall into stagnation. He was, after all, quite fond of Fixer, his own personal Jokaero.

After he had collected his thoughts, he turned to the Lord Admiral Justin, forever interred within his chair. Such an odd name. He was this newly minted vessel's first commander. A mere five decades of service to the Imperium. The man was skilled even if he was young, but he was sometimes impulsive. He would have never gotten such a prestigious appointment if he was not a part of the noblest house of Thule. Only nobles are ever looked at for such a position. They had, after all, taken almost 3 centuries to build this ship and make it a tribute to the Imperium. Such a tithe would have added great honor to the family. And the honor was even greater when the firstborn of the family was selected to serve it.

But Quintilius cared little for honor. He only cared about who was right for the job, and Lord Justin had certainly impressed him. In his first engagement he managed to draw an Eldar fleet, of all things, into the gravity well of a massive black hole. A man who used misdirection so well that he tricked the greatest liars of all certainly fit the bill for competency.

"Can we open the blinders now Admiral?" Quintilius asked. When in combat, Imperial ships pulled blinders over the extremely strong ceramite glass of the bridge. It was even more heavily armored than the rest of the ship, 22 meters of adamantium as opposed to the 20 meters everywhere else. While the bridge was always safe as long as one of the ships four void shields were up, it never hurt to be prepared. The void shields could always go down, and the structural weakness of the bridge would then be targeted. Standard navy combat practice. Cut off the head of the snake and the body dies. Of course, the orks they were dealing with now had no concept of tactics other than crushing and stomping. But paranoia had saved his life before and allowed him defeat of the Emperor's unholy enemies.

"Yes, the blinders may be opened, the last ork kroozer in system has been dealt with," replied the admiral. The slow clanking of gears filled the bridge as the blinders opened at the pace of one of Nurgle's plaguebearers. For the first time since he had entered the system, he saw what he was here for. A large, silvery grey spoon lay on its sides with a blue hue humming in its center. He had been told by Mia, the sanctioned psyker in his retinue, that when they entered system, it felt like they had entered an eerily calm warp storm. It felt like the powers of chaos, yet it was clean.

Almost ordered, even.

Mia remarked that she could draw on this well of power far more easily and without the temptations of corruption that surrounded the warp. There was no Daemon whispering to her mind the glories of serving those infinitely greater than her.

A large swoosh was heard behind the inquisitor. Speaking of the devil, there was Mia. "You have an odd taste in people you know? I could have sworn that I just heard the new magos whispering tech heresy under his breath. Is that your own doing?" Mia spoke with a jest in her tone. Out of all the people serving in his retinue, Mia was the most out of place. Unlike many other psykers, she was able to actually use the powers of the warp without it slowly wearing down her sanity. Even if her power was only that of an average psyker, her willpower was enormous. She was one of the few who survived bonding her soul to the Emperor with little damage to her eyes or any other senses. Her devotion to the Emperor was much like her willpower, enormous in nature. If she was wearing Adepta Soritas armor you would never notice the difference between her and an actual Sister of Battle. She was the most Orthodox of the retinue. Hatred of all things not human. Thus, she even hated herself. But she always hid it well, underneath the mask the inquisitor had taught her about. Never let the enemy see your true face.

"Well, are you just going to stand there and stare at me? Or are you going to answer my question," she said with an almost surly like lisp. Very few people would speak like that to a man who usually had enough virus bombs to wipe out a subsector. But Mia was not most people. She was the closest he had to a friend.

Quintilius at once realized he was lost in his thoughts again and regained composure. "I would like to think that my charming ways are rubbing of on him, but I picked him up for a reason. He was always like that, but he was never allowed to show it."

"If you say so," She replied with a childlike smile etched into her face.

"Enough of the pleasantries Mia. I want to know more about this device and what you have sensed. If you can indeed draw power from this machine I must know that it is truly safe. If it is, the benefit to humanity is overwhelming." Down to business it was then. Mia sighed, as the smile was forced from her face and she became far more formal.

"Not only is it safe sir, but it seems that the closer I am to it, the less I must listen to the damning whispers of Chaos. It has made me feel more peace of mind than any psychic inhibitor," said Mia.

"Then the course of action is decided, Lord Justin, set course for the object. Bring us next to the object's starboard side ready for broadside salvos in case this device is hostile." ordered the inquisitor with an insane glint in his eye.

"Are you crazy, my Lord?! We have no idea what this device is! For all we know, it could be an ancient Necron construction designed to wake all of the tomb worlds!" said Mia as she voiced the opinions of everyone else on the bridge.

Quintilius turned to face her and the temperature on the bridge fell a few noticeable degrees. "Mia, my dear, should you ever question my orders again while we are in a potentially hostile situation, I will have you executed on charges of treason, my darling. And that would be a terrible waste of such burgeoning talent. To question me is to question the Emperor's authority, we don't want that, do we?" Quintilius stated in a menacing voice. This is why Quintilius had never formed friends even amongst his retinue. He might have to execute one every once in a while to keep order, or send one on a suicide mission to serve the Imperium's needs. And it would be a shame if Mia died, he'd almost grown attached in the seven years he's known her. But she will do the Emperor's duty, and that included following him.

He needed to get close and study the device. Without risking one's life in service to the Emperor, you were not doing your job. Life, after all, was the Emperor's holy currency.

The rest of the crew shied away in fear, but not Mia. With a stony face reminiscent of a servitor, she merely said, "Yes, my lord," and resumed her duties. That was why Quintilius favored Mia so much. Such fearlessness. But order had to be maintained at all costs. It was the reason why the Emperor was anathema to Chaos after all.

With the small power struggle in the bridge taken care of, he turned to Lord Justin. With his voice resuming its normal, lighthearted and slightly amused tone, he asked, "What does the ships cognitor think of the device?"

Lord Justin, uncaring of what just transpired, said, "The machine spirits tell me that the spirits in the device are quite agitated, and are generating enormous amounts of energy. The energy seems to increase the closer we are to it."

"Very well. Continue on course to the device. My retinue and I will be in the hangar near the Thunderhawk. How long until we reach the device?" asked the inquisitor, unknowing or uncaring of the glare he was receiving from Mia.

"We will reach the device in five minutes," he replied in the same rocky voice that Kathian had.

"Excellent. Mia, my darling, follow me downstairs. I want you in vacuum sealed carapace armor for this mission. Summon the rest of my retinue to the Thunderhawk as well," said Quintilius.

"Yes, my lord," Mia responded tersely. Quintilius knew that she was giving him the cold shoulder. But he also knew that she would learn the error of her ways. He would mold her mind to be the perfect apprentice for him. Shame that she was so strong with her will, otherwise he would have just hypno trained her. Moments later, a psychic summon was heard by all of the retinue as the inquisitor made his way towards the hangar bay.

XXXX

'Meet Inquisitor Quintilius in the hangar bay. We have a mission.'

All at once, the Stormtroopers stopped their prayer in the shrine of the Holy Emperor. All 30 of them snapped to attention and faced Lieutenant Palck. Without delay, he addressed them. "Listen up men, the inquisitor has set course for the tainted xenos device. It is our sworn duty to the Emperor to protect mankind from all such evils! And we shall die before failing our duty! Fall in!" The troopers then immediately formed a line two across, fifteen long. The steps were in perfect synchronization, and the imperial litany of fury was sung by the marching men. Had someone not seen the men, they would think them a choir of angels. Once in battle, the Stormtroopers were silent, professional warriors. But outside of battle, they spent their time in praise to the Emperor. After all, men could sing the praises of a hellgun on the battlefield and from their vocal chords when awaiting the next one.

After a long march almost a kilometer long, they arrived in the hangar. Palck looked on with pride as he noticed they were the first to respond to the call. Stormtroopers were the best and brightest after all. He noticed Quintilius already in the Thunderhawk, and ordered his men to follow him inside. He walked right up to the inquisitor and snapped a salute. "Prepare your men for potential hostile boarding actions. No heavy weapons, I want you light and mobile," stated Quintilius. "Yes sir!" replied Palck. He was chosen by the Emperor to protect Quintilius, and he would do just that. He grabbed the power sword and plasma pistol gifted to him from the inquisitor. He noticed Quintilius already had an inferno pistol and a power fist linked into his power armor. He Hummed the litany of activation as he turned on the power sword and followed the Inquisitor into the Thunderhawk.

XXXX

'Meet Inquisitor Quintilius in the hangar bay. We have a mission.'

"Ugh! So soon already?" a massive man said as he sat up in his bed. One could see his rippling muscle and clear definition. There, a woman was performing fellatio on him. "Get of me you skek! I got something to do!" Without even waiting to for her to finish, he brutally pushed her off and she hit her head. She fell to the ground and a pool of blood started to flow from her body, like a river of life forever corrupted. "Eh, oh well. The inquisitor was going to have you killed anyway. At least it was good while it lasted. I do love stupid skeks." He said with such a callous disregard for life that it would have made a Khornate berserker stop. The woman was dead anyway. A civilian aboard an inquisitor's ship, privy to the dark secrets of the Imperium? She was a walking corpse. The inquisitor would not have even wasted the time to mindwipe her.

The man was known as Hostilius. Many wondered why the inquisitor even had him in his retinue. 'Worthless piece of womanizing trash' or 'traitor to the Emperor.' To be honest, even he wasn't sure why he was saved from exterminatus on the penal world Ghislian. But he knew one thing, and that was to always take advantage of whatever opportunities arose.

He figured that said opportunity now lied in the hangar bay. He fought an epic battle against fatigue and the bed sheets as he tried to get up. Finally, when he got up, one could see just how big the titan was. He stood at least 7 ft. or 2.1 meters tall. He was no Ogryn, but he might well have descended from one. You could never really know who you were descended from on the planet he was from anyway. Sometimes he was terrified of the man who rescued him.

But anything was better than life on the prison world. The diseased masses of the Imperium's worst criminals were forced to slave away until they were nothing. He once saw a man gut himself and try to eat his intestines in order to survive the worst famine they ever had on Ghislian. Brother against sister, and sometimes brother in sister, depending on how hungry they were. All the while over the loudspeakers the foundry masters droned on about how they must repent for their sins with suffering.

But it was all a load of shit.

His only sin was being born on the wrong fucking planet. And with that original sin, he was born to die a miserable death. Heh, the girl reminded him of the time he raped his sister in order to show that no one was above him in the gang. He then proceeded to hang her remains on the pole outside the foundry where the carrion birds would slowly pluck the flesh from the bones. But that was in the past. He tried not to think about that all too much.

He stepped into the hallway. The crowd parted for him like Mosses parted the Red Sea according to the ancient storybook Babel.

When he got there, he absent mindedly noticed that the inquisitor gave him an angry look.

"You're late." He stated plainly. Hostilius decided to simply not say anything, lest the man kill him. After a minute long stare down, the inquisitor beckoned him on board. "Here, you will need this," he stated flatly as he handed him vacuum sealed carapace armor specifically modified for him and a heavy bolter.

Then he noticed he wasn't in fact the last one. The glory boys were here, Mia, that gorgeous looker was here, Kathian, the glorified servitor with a stick up his ass, was here. But where was that little trickster?

XXXX

'Meet Inquisitor Quintilius in the hangar bay. We have a mission.'

Smash! Crash! Everything fell down around him. It? Her? Some form of being anyway. Fixer was not happy. "Abominable psykers. Every time that stupid human Mia summons me I get a headache. Why can't they just send one of those macabre servo skulls?" Fixer was thoroughly pissed as it was just working on constructing a brand new teleporter for the inquisitor's power armor. All this nonsense of machine spirits and the Omnisiah damn near drove it crazy. It always had to sneak all the parts it needed. Thankfully Fixer had its own teleporter that it made. The inquisitor allowed Fixer to grab whatever materials it needed. Adamantium here, Uranium 238 here, a little Promethium here. The so called human 'techpriests' disgusted Fixer. Every time they brought up a program on the computer, they had to sing a litany of appeasement to make sure they worked. A little incense here to sooth spirits. A litany of activation to summon them. Such superstition. If it wasn't for the inquisitor to whom it owed its life, Fixer would have left already. Quintilius always called it a he. Maybe it should adopt the human concept of genders until its debt was repaid. It liked that idea.

Figuring since it had its own teleporter, it could wait and instead teleported down to the mess hall. There was food in the kitchen and it was quite hungry after all. It teleported right into the pantry and decided to stuff its face with protein rations. They tasted terrible, but they were great for its body. "Hey, xenos in the kitchen! Get the Flamers and purge it with fire!" Shouted a human cook behind him. Damn, it was caught. Oh well, food binge over. It always despised how the humans had some sort of fire fetish, especially against xenos. It wasn't good to simply kill a xeno, you had to 'clean it.' Slightly miffed, it teleported away into the hangar.

It immediately took notice of how the inquisitor seemed to be waiting. "You're even later than Hostilius Fixer, that's never a good thing." It knew that the inquisitor would never execute it because of all the valuable tech it provided him. But it was better not to push it. "I know, I was actually working on a new teleporter for your armor when I was summoned. Sorry, but I wanted to finish the installation of the warp stabilizing module." A simple trick. Whenever you were late or insubordinate, say it was for your superior's benefit.

Of course, Quintilius probably saw right through that ruse. He was an inquisitor after all. "Just don't do it again." He said. It released a breath of air that it hadn't even realized it was holding. It always wondered him why he chose to be friendly with some of his retinue and yet execute others in the retinue in cold blood. It was all ready to go, sealed up in its own special armor with a digital weapon. Though thankfully it almost never needed to shoot. It was better at sneaking through the enemies and hacking their computers if they had any, at least. Finally the door sealed shut and they were to wait for the go ahead.

XXXX

Back on the bridge, the blinders were once again shut in anticipation of a hostile contact. Lord Admiral Justin didn't need them anyway. He was beyond such petty human eyesight. He felt Quintilius move along his decks towards the hangar. He was a man truly worthy of his service. His noble family had ties to the Emperor going back 10,000 years, and never before had someone else come to deserve such loyalty. In securing this artifact, his family's power would soar to new heights.

If the inquisition made this discovery public at least, which he very much doubted.

Justin ordered the crewman to half the power to the engines and put excess power into the void shield and lance batteries. They were in no rush, and when facing an unknown enemy, it was better to have more armor than to hope you could dodge their fire.

He felt the rough smacking of feet as guardsmen trained below. He could feel the cold of the void, the magnificence of the sun. How any human could live without this was beyond him.

As Lord Justin approached the object, something strange started to happen. The machine spirits warned him that the spirits in the alien machine were becoming more irritated. The energy they produced started to leap out towards the vessel just as he was bringing the massive ship to the objects starboard side. He tried to send out a vox warning across the ship, but it was too late. They were already covered in whatever strange manner of energy the device produced.

Then they were flung into the warp.

But it was no warp that Justin had ever felt in his life. The geller field was not repelling the malevolent daemons of the great enemy. It was completely calm. It looked serene, peaceful. But it still resonated with the raw power of the warp. All of this calculated in microseconds, as the jump was nearly instantaneous. Finally, they had arrived. The Lord Admiral immediately tried to get his bearings, and for the first time in many years, was absolutely shocked speechless by what he saw.

XXXX

Mia knew something was going on. It was hard to concentrate and focus her power on analyzing the device. It was always harder to do that when emotions where in the way. The only emotion that seemed to strengthen her connection to the warp was righteous fury against her enemies. Many saw that as strange, for most other psykers she was with always strengthened their connection with some form of emotion, as the warp was the reflection of all emotion. But this, this was different. Something else had brought complete silence over her mind. There was nothing.

Not. One. Thing.

She could still sense some form of raw power around her. Caressing her in a soft and gentle way, not forcing it down her throat like usual. Then suddenly, it came for her. "Look out!" she screamed as she struggled to put up her mental barrier in time. Then, in microseconds it was gone, and nothing tried to break through the barrier. But, still afraid that something was amiss, now kept her barrier up. Then, the vox sounded on the Thunderhawk. "Inquisitor," it was the Lord Admiral. "You might want to see this."

XXXX

AN: Ok, sooooooo, I was not really planning on having another chapter up so soon, but this story was really popular for only a few hundred words. So I decided to upload this and see what happens. I will definitely not update for at least 2 more weeks now. I am quite the busy man after all. I was planning to add the bit from the mass effect characters perspective in here. But I figured I could tack that onto the next chapter. I also have a new poll on my profile to determine what my side project should be. Ta ta for now.


	3. Immortal Gods!

AN: So, it has taken a while to update. Also, new thing, **important must read notes are in bold, for those who can't read through my boring week. **I have spring break coming up for my high school and that means I got some raves to attend. Nothing implied, of course. So I will not update past this chapter for another 2 weeks at least, just like last time. I might update my new story if people **vote in my new story poll on my profile. Edit: you can now vote twice one different stories.**

I am also now **looking for beta readers.** I do sometimes make some truly tragic grammar mistakes. I went through and fixed some minor character speech issues from last chapter. No need to reread, just spacing issues. And please, review this story. The more reviews that I have, the more inspired I will be to hammer out this story on my writer's anvil.

This part will contain the mass effect character intro that I intended to put into last chapter. As you can tell, I am setting up the conflicts and character development that will happen later in the story. Unlike all the people on the Warhammer Cruiser, these characters will not start in the same location and will instead be brought into each other's embrace at a later date.

Unlike most stories on this website who tend to go until their authors lose interest in them, I have an end plan for mine. I was actually already thinking about what a sequel would look like. As I had said, this story will be my main concern. As far as stories. I wrote this whole chapter listening to pretty much 3 songs. Don't Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, Right in Two by Tool, and Junkhead by Alice in Chains. I think that heavily influenced the way that I wrote these characters and scenes. I highly suggest you watch the mass effect music video of Don't Fear the Reaper and the video for Tool's Right in Two. But that is something completely separate. **When I say standard Batarian cycle, it is based on the day length of Khar'Shan, which is about 18.5 hours.**

And again, without further ado, chapter 2.

XXXX

It had been a rough week for Falkark. He was running low on funds to feed his drunken stupor in the Citadel's slums. And to think that not too long ago he was in standing to become the commander of the 104th flotilla doing patrol routes along the Krogan DMZ. Ever since those damned Batarians lauched a raid on Turian held planets inside of Council space and humiliated the Turians, he had been drinking himself into a stupor. All of that because those Batarians had humiliated and killed his father.

In that day that he had been informed, rage blew through him like the angry wrath of Palaven itself. But then, ceaseless sadness and mourning put out his fire of rage. He was now forever incased in a shroud of hopelessness. These days he relegated himself to drinking and running. Let stupid men do the fighting for him. War had caused nothing but misery for all the races.

The usual drunken chatter was everywhere today, even more so than usual. He decided to listen into some conversations, as he had none of his own to pursue. Two Turians, looked poor, probably dock workers were having great fun mocking the other races. "Hey maaaaaan, what's the difference between a trash can and a Quarian?"

"I don't know," replied the other Turian.

"You can see the trash inside of a trash can!" said the man, clearly more inebriated than the other. But both of them keeled over in laughter.

"Hey, I got another one. What does one baby Krogan say to another baby Krogan? Nothing, they're both stillborn!" If it was even possible, they started laughing even more. They were both lucky that the bouncers on tonight were not Krogan, or both of them would have lost a little more than their stomachs to their drinking. Uninterested in the drunken activities of racists, he turned his focus onto a more gorgeous scene, the Asari dancers.

He was watching said Asari walk through the bar, daydreaming about touching their lovely head crests in an intimate way, when a very official looking Turian approached him, clad in mark VI agent armor. He also had 4 weapons on his back, a warning that he was dangerous. There were no colony markings on his face, barefaced. Falkark noted the star of Palaven pinned proudly on his chest, shining and reflecting the light to present a beautiful scene. It spoke volumes of the proud soul who have worn it. Or stupid soul, depending on how you looked at it. He also had both of his feet locked forward, standard Turian body language for having someplace to be or something to do.

The professional man then got to his table. For some reason Falkark seemed to be his target. He was unsure if that was a good thing. Surely an armed hitman would have better sense than to kill him in front of all these witnesses. Falkark thought that he had evaded them. How could they track him down here?

Sweating rivets, his fight or flight instincts started to kick in. He put a hand on his gun, ready to draw.

The hitman finally spoke, "Relax, we are not with Blackwatch." Those words did absolutely nothing to allay Falkark's fears or suspicions. He then noticed the funny wording that the Turian used in his statement.

With a little willpower Falkark made himself stop shaking and asked, "Who's _we_?"

The other Turian responded without missing a beat and confidently said, "We happen to be an organization that happens to value what you possess, Mr. Falkark. You will come with us to the shuttle. You will comply or Citadel News will receive an 'anonymous' tip with regards to some runaway Turian in possession of some important state held secrets. It would be such a shame if all of the Council knew of these secrets."

Falkark knew a bluff when he saw one, "Bullshit, a fellow Turian would never do that to the Hierarchy!" As Falkark said this, he noticed out of the corner of his eye movement in the dark corners of this club. Slow and deliberate movement. This was all a distraction, to line up the perfect shot. He would have noticed someone moving around the club trying to kill him if he wasn't engaged in conversation. Killing from far enough away can still give Blackwatch plausible deniability. But why make it so public? Falkark had no time to ponder that question as he thumbed the secondary button on his pistol. Suddenly the world seemed to slow down.

Zaaaaaaap! Electricity, the driver of all modern society, had left this place, fleeing like the club's occupants soon would. A suffocating darkness descended on the club, and with it came panic. The dancers on party drugs and hallucinogens stopped moving, the drunkards still didn't even realize what had happened. Falkark took advantage of this darkness, pulled out his pistol, and ran. He fired a single shot in the air.

Bang! Bang! Now the panic had started in earnest. The screaming civilians scrambled to get away from the sound of gunfire. Even if Blackwatch wanted him and what he had really badly, they did not take too kindly to collateral damage to accomplish their objective. He separated himself from the former party goers. The stampeding crowd gave him room to get out through the back entrance. Blackwatch would expect him to try to slip out with the crowd, but sooner or later they would realize their mistake and come for him. He opened the old fashioned trap door and fell into the sewer.

He needed to lose them before they even found his trail. The first step was to seal the trap doors shut again. He had autowelders on the door just for that. There was a large flash with the intensity of the sun on the other side of the door. That would buy him at least 3-4 minutes, if the large flash didn't attract them to him. In retrospect, he should have thought his plan through. No time for worrying about that now. Falkark had to fly like the wind.

The first step was to lose the scent, just in case they brought anything like Varren with them. He smelled the air, putrid with feces of a thousand different people.

He had no hardsuit.

'Well, this is going to suck.' He decided to leap in feet first, and immediately felt a burning sensation like molten lead in his arm. "Aw Fuck!" Falkark said with pain. He looked down to see a hole in his arm. Then he remembered there were two gunshots. One must have hit him and he didn't even notice with the adrenaline running through him. Now filled with purpose, he made his way through the sewer, now up to his neck. Medigel and disinfectant were both on his illegally parked shuttle.

Blackwatch would have suspected that he was making his way towards the docks. They would then check for all suspicious and unregistered ships there and try to get C-Sec to put it on lockdown. But they were looking in the wrong place. His shuttle was barely 5 meters long and hid easily in the part of the sewer where the waste was ejected into space. It had taken a good bit of bribe money to keep the workers down there silent as a ghost. At least the feces filled sewer hid his blood trail.

Time no longer mattered as Falkark quickly made his way to his ship. 15 minutes. Not good, Blackwatch should have already put their ships on alert. He reached an airlock with a small container that held his vacuum resistant hardsuit. If he hadn't been fleeing, he would have sat there admiring how incredible it was that sentient beings had built a literal barrier between life and death.

His hands were quick as a leopard as he put in the code to unlock his hardsuit. When he had put the suit over his malodorous body, he went through the airlock. He cursed himself, 'Why did I put the medigel in the shuttle? Another thing to fix on my next escape plan.' He filed in and filled the navigating computer with coordinates. The aft thrusters fired and produced life, it was time to go.

As he escaped the Citadel, Falkark noticed that the fleet hadn't been put on alert. If he flew through the Presidium Ring, he could escape the fleet but would also catch some eyeballs in the process, alerting Blackwatch that he had fled the scene. Finally, he cleared the ring. No one was pursuing him. That would not last for long though, it never did. The hot sensation in his arm returned at full strength with added heaviness. He would treat his wounds after he set his coordinates. Next stop, Omega.

XXXX

It had been a great week for Shanok. A large and successful raid had been conducted on a small Terminus system planet ironically called Hideout. So many slaves had been taken from the mixed species colony. He stood in the Cargo bay admiring his prize. Lots of Asari and Turians. But there were also a few Salarians, and even a few Quarians. There were at least 500 slaves in the cargo hold. He had to get to Torfan fast, or else risk the cargo starting to starve. There was at least 10 million credits worth of slaves in there, or about 20,000 credits per slave, and damned if he was not going to make all of that money.

Shanok had already selected a couple of personal slaves for himself. 2 beautiful and biotically weak Asari and 1 personal female Quarian. He had never fucked a Quarian before, but hey, there's a first time for everything. Said Quarian probably only had hours to live after that. Damn suit rats.

Shanok personally preferred defiling and torturing his prey without a control collar on. It added so much thrill to the hunt. The tortured screams of the powerless were always overshadowed by the cacophony of laughter coming from his foul mouth. It was not so much the pleasure of defilement that made him happy, but rather that feeling of total control.

Walking down the cages, he decided to grab a Quarian child by the chin and said, "Today is your lucky day. Today you will know what it means to be worthless." He spoke into the child's eyes, but he was addressing all of the slaves. He turned towards his second lieutenant, Nalak, and said, "You can take any 5 slaves and enjoy them today. Consider it your pre-emptive shore leave." Without even waiting for a response, his feet turned and he shuffled out of the inhospitable hold and into the elevator.

He punched in the floor level as he ascended. He was truly a god amongst Batarians at this very moment. He had drank from the ambrosia of the gods, and it was delicious. He saw his bridge, filled with the most devious of all miscreants in the galaxy. He needed to reorganize himself and his forces here at relay 314. In the desperate attempt to flee from wrath of Terminus pirate lords, he had gotten to a backwater system in the middle of nowhere.

Shanok focused his attention on his first lieutenant Ogark. Ogark was a fine leader, former soldier with the Batarian state. He had personally lead a regiment of some newly formed soldiers and put down 3 separate slave uprisings on Aratoht. He was then given a state sponsored VISA, which could be used to travel anywhere in Batarian space.

He was a man of action. Also a bit of a psychopath.

He didn't trust him one bit. Giving him the appointment at first lieutenant only happened because of politics. Because he defended Batarian space from slave revolts, the state wanted to reward him with riches. It made for a good propaganda piece. It helped create the illusion that if you worked hard for the state, they would reward you, lower beings included.

Nonetheless, Ogark was still the best on the ship as far as tactical maneuvers went. He planned all of the raids. He had the true power on the ship, even if it was Shanok who pretended to have all the power. With a cold steely gaze Shanok looked over to Ogark and asked, "When will we be ready to go into FTL?"

Hands flew across the computer and Ogark could barely be bothered with a response, "We will be ready to launch in 1/2 of a standard Batarian Cycle. Our drive cores are nearly full and are being discharged over the planet that we now orbit. Food supplies can last for another 75 standard Batarian cycles if rationed for just us, 25 if minimum rations are given to the slaves. We should reach Torfan in 10 cycles when we launch." He said in a gruff voice that betrayed very little emotion, only stoic professionalism. Maybe it was simply detachment, Shanok could never tell.

Shanok arrogantly responded, "Good. Tell the crew they get ½ of a cycle to rest. Anything more than that and they will be shot. Make sure every-"

"Sir!" He was interrupted in the middle of giving orders by a crewman on the starboard side. He was pretty clear on what being interrupted meant. He started to draw his Carnifex from its holster when the crewman continued talking, clearly panicking. "The relay in the system just activated!"

"What!" Shanok said in shock. "Relay 314 has never been touched by any species." Then, a plan started to form in Shanok's arrogantly addled brain. What if this was a new species coming through the relay? The manpower of a brand new race could give the Batarians the cutting edge in Citadel space. It would rapidly speed up colonization of the Traverse and allow them to expand the fleet to rival the Turians. However, more importantly, it would give him, the great Shanok, incredible wealth and fame.

"What should we do sir?" asked the quivering crewman he had almost shot a few moments ago.

"We wait until our drive cores are fully discharged, then we go through the relay." He said confidently.

-8 hours later

"Sir, the gate is starting to power up. Something is coming through." Said someone on the bridge to the Captain.

"Give me eyes on the projector, I want to know what we are dealing with here. I do not want to be caught completely off guard." Shanok said. He was quite miffed, this was not the ideal situation to be in. He still had 30 minutes left until the drive core was fully discharged, and he could not attempt a jump until then.

"Zooming in now sir," said the crewman.

And Shanok immediately shat his pants.

XXXX

Thump! Thump! Thump! Over and over again it was repeating in her head. The depravity of these foul creatures. She was just living a life by herself, she wanted nothing to do with this. But now they would pay. Oh yes they would.

These were the thoughts of an Asari maiden called Manah in the prime of her life. Now she was forced to be in such degrading conditions, brought low for all to see. The beautiful Asari was stark naked, chained to a pole, as if some item on display. She did not want to know how close she was to the truth. Her teal skin pure and unmarked by toil. This was not right.

She was stewing a cauldron of hate, bubbling and boiling, waiting for an unfortunate soul to burn. But that cauldron was held back by the companionship she had formed with another soul in a similar fate. The Quarian Nemo'Par Vas Moland had kept her company throughout this tough time. Nemo was the only one Manah could trust around here. She turned her head left, and saw her in a similar situation. The Nemo's suit was filled with scratches and dents. For once, she wished that she was a Quarian. Nemo was lucky she wasn't some mere meat on the marketplace. Instead she was the worthless refuse. Nemo would probably die, would probably be spared from the horrors that awaited all those that survived.

Maybe she would get lucky. Maybe she would get a master who did not abuse her. Goddess, Manah hoped she did not end up in the mines. That would be a terrible way to go. Worked to death by an uncaring loudspeaker. She could already feel their dark laughter as they watched those that had once been privileged break under duress.

While in the midst of her thought, Manah barely noticed the light croak coming from her left. "You think we might still be able to escape from here?" asked Nemo.

Manah whispered back so that their overbearing captors couldn't hear them. "I think the best we can hope for is to not end up in the mines. Or maybe in your case not die," Manah said bluntly.

Maybe a little too bluntly, as a soft and innocent sobbing started. "I just want to go home. All I wanted to do was bring back those new fabricators to the ship. Now I will never see my dad again!" Nemo soppily cried. By the time she finished what she was saying, she had increased in volume. Manah had to reassure her or else risk another flogging.

"Nemo, now is not the time to be weak. Be strong, and you will see your father again. May the Goddess bless you, and may the Goddess smite down those who have shown us no mercy." Manah said with extreme conviction. That had appeared to calm her down, as the sobbing stopped.

Suddenly, all activity stopped when one of the guards shouted, "Hey! Shanok wants us at battle stations right now, get your collective assess in gear! Leave Garvi' here, he's too drunk anyway! Everyone else move!" The slavers than began to move away from the cargo hold in bulk. The Batarian lieutenant kept trying to appear in command of the disorganized slavers as they fled towards their stations. His effort was going completely unnoticed. Combat status here? Only the pirate lords would have tracked them down. They were so screwed.

Then Nemo asked Manah, "Do you think that the Turians are coming to rescue us?" She managed a little bit more confidence in her voice than last time.

Manah responded in a tone similar to a mother talking to her child, "No, Turians would not save save us. We were taken from the Terminus systems. The council would not risk war over that. I have no idea what is going on."

Nemo visibly deflated a little, her hopefulness slightly deteriorated. "But someone has to be attacking in order to put those scum on alert. Maybe they will save us!" She said loudly, no longer having to control her voice with only the one dead drunk Batarian around.

"Maybe they would, we shall see," Said Manah with finality.

XXXX

Lord Justin was truly astounded by what he saw. There was a small xenos looking ship sitting in the system. But that was not what had shaken him so thoroughly. There were so many machine spirits flying to and fro that ship that it was an almost blessed sight. And it was not only so much, but they were so unprotected and free as well. But he remembered that it was contained on the unholy carcass that was a xenos ship. Then he began to chuckle to himself. What a small ship, how could they even make so many spirits? There was no way that it could ever be warp worthy. Such a small ship would be eaten alive in the currents of the empyrean. They were not going anywhere fast.

He sent what he was seeing down to the cognitors on the Thunderhawk. "Inquisitor, there is a small ship that is practically giving away spirits. I think that the purpose of the vessel is for the unholy xenos to create heretical technology. I think that we should board that vessel in the Emperor's name!" The starship was now being displayed on the cognitor. It was ungraceful, boxy, and small. Quintilius would have called it downright ugly. It was an affront to the very concept of starship construction.

Quintilius then asked of the Lord Admiral, "Can you disable their engines from here to make boarding easier?"

Lord Admiral Justin then replied, "Yes, I think it is most certainly doable. The machine spirits do not tell me of any void shields. A glancing shot should disable them." It was here that the inquisition reacted differently from the rest of the Imperium's 'shoot first ask questions never' policy. Interrogation of these filthy xenos could lead to the purpose of what the device actually is. The Inquisition was, after all, responsible for most of the Imperium's knowledge of how to combat their unholy enemies.

Quintilius focused his attention on Mia. His voice was starting to crackle with fervor. "Mia, ready yourself for interrogation protocols. I think that this will be a great teaching moment for one as young as yourself. Don't you Mia?" Asked the Inquisitor. Mia merely grunted in response. Quintilius immediately asked what she meant by that. "Is that a 'yes' grunt or a 'no' grunt Mia? I do not want a repeat of what happened on the bridge."

Mia responded quickly. "I meant yes sir. You were right in the bridge, and I will follow you to the very depths of the empyrean itself if the Emperor wills it," she said with pride.

"Good girl Mia. You must know your place within the Imperium's chain of command. Order is what keeps us together. Loyalty is what separates us from Chaos. Eternal life is what separates us from the faithless xenos." said Quintilius. This was the beginning of the standard blessing before battle. Since Quintilius had not had a truly sanctified priest in his retinue for a long time, he had decided to take up preaching himself.

"We stand as a bulwark against all who would oppose his will! We shall stop at nothing to make the galaxy safer from the threats that ail it! And we shall be forever blessed and will stand at His side until the very end days! May none find us wanting!" Quintilius practically shouted from the Thunderhawk. His tone of fervor had reached its apex.

With a tone almost capable of matching Quintilius' own, the retinue echoed back, "The Emperor protects!"

Kathian said as loudly as possible, "Omnisiah preserve us." Hostilius and Fixer merely said nothing. The doors of the Thunderhawk snapped shut, and they were floating in vacuum, approaching the unknown xenos.

Quintilius did not want to waste his Imperial guardsmen on these new targets yet. So only he and his retinue went forth to the ship. Like a predator upon its prey, they swooped onto the enemy.

XXXX

Back on the bridge, Shanok was panicking. "Start all evasive maunevers! Get me as far away from that monster as possible!" Rivets of sweat descended from his brow to the floor. A massive ship, at least 6 km long had entered the system. Shanok had no intention of staying around just in case it turned hostile. Now was not a good day to run into an alien species of such power to build exploratory ships like that.

A crewman responded with a terrified expression. "Sir, I can't go evasive! We are still tethered to the planet and discharging our core! Pulling away when we are almost done would electrify the whole crew!"

"Goddammit," Shanok muttered under his breath.

"Sir, energy levels spiking! I think they are going to. . ." Whichever crewman was talking did not get to finish his sentence, as a bright red bream almost hit the ship. Everyone was thrown from their seats. The wrath of an angry and jealous god had come to this system.

"Status report!" Shanok screamed from the top of his lungs.

"Hull fires in sections 2-5! Had to vent and seal off section 2! The men in sections 6-12 are already running for the escape pods! They are abandoning ship sir! What do we do!?"

Shanok was at a loss for words. He had never imagined that one day that it would come to this. Everything he wanted to establish, gone. All his hopes and dreams, ruined. The man just sat there mutely as more reports flooded his senses. The sensors had been scrambled from electromagnetic radiation from the blast. The slaves were escaping. He noticed none of it.

The only thing he noticed was the cold metal at the back of his head.

"That's it Shanok. I am the captain now." A shiver went down his spine.

_Ogark._

Those who drank from the cup of the gods were always the last to see their missteps.

Oh how the mighty had fallen. Bang!

XXXX

Lieutenant Palck was having a fucking field day. These filthy xenos fell easily before him. They offered no resistance. The Stormtroopers advanced quickly and methodically. Hostilius laid down cover fire with his heavy bolter. If they were not immediately destroyed by the mighty power of the boltgun, then their cover almost always was. The Stormtroopers advanced into charging range while the xenos were pinned down. Guts were spilled onto the floor. Palck came around another corner into 6 awaiting aliens. He fired a sublimely accurate shot straight into the cranium of the alien. The power of the plasma pistol flash boiled its brains away, leaving nothing of the consciousness that once occupied the burnt husk. 5 resounding hellguns fired at the same time as his pistol. They downed the aliens so quickly they did not even have time to return fire.

His objective was to secure the cargo hold for the inquisitor before the aliens destroyed everything in there. At least, that was what he presumed they were doing. It was standard policy for all races to attempt a scorched earth policy if they started to lose.

He rounded yet another corner, this time coming upon that foul man Hostilius and his squad of 5 Stormtroopers. Hostilius was sitting with another Stormtrooper, firing a withering barrage of blessed bolts into the enemies of mankind. His heavy bolter was lying on the ground, acting like a mobile turret. One by one they exploded, the viscera of their former comrades now covered the xenos as they were sprayed. Hostilius had to be careful with that boltgun, or else he might weaken the pathetic structural integrity of this ship.

But he was too late, as the xenos were already eliminated by the time he got within talking distance to Hostilius. "Remember, Lord Inquisitor Quintilius wants both captives to interrogate and information from the machine spirits. Be careful with that gun. I would not want another reason to kill a filthy heretic like you." Said Palck with incredible spite.

"Shut up, mongrel. You cannot do anything to me unless Quintilius says so," responded Hostilius with equal hatred.

"Just don't do it again," Palck said with finality.

He then separated himself out from Hostilius and went forth towards his objective. He heard wailing and crying from the area he was going to. He came to a scene that had surprised him. Other xenos in cages? These ones were slavers then. Two of the slaving xenos had already gotten on the floor with their hands up, clearly surrendering to the indomitable will of the Emperor. But one had another xeno hostage. He was clearly drunk. Now it started to make sense why these xenos had offered no challenge, they were brigands. "Stay back or *hiccup the Asari dies!"

Palck had absolutely no understanding of what the xenos had said and he did not care. He and the rest of his squad fired into the xeno, killing its hostage and the xeno behind it. The metal of the cages nearby were red hot from the heat of the plasma shot. The xeno had the face of shock imprinted onto him, as if he was sure using another xeno would work. Disgusting, the xenos hostage had to closely resembled the holy form of man.

The xenos on the ground started shivering in fear. He binded them up. "Lucius, take these xenos back to the Thunderhawk. I am sure Mia will want to 'talk' with them."

"Yes sir."

"Everyone else, secure the rest of these xenos for transit. We will hold this position from any hostile attacks." Now onto the important questions. What type of filthy enemies were they dealing with here?

XXXX

AN: So, why is that Turian being chased by Blackwatch? And why is that at all important to the storyline? Good questions, can't tell you. The main characters in this story are obviously the Warhammer characters. I am going to spend more time developing the Warhammer characters more than anything else. The Mass Effect characters are going to be more likely to be thrown away. Please review and answer my poll. Pretty please. You don't want to make me sad now would you? :*(


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